


On New Revelations Concering the Lost Franklin Expedition

by soft_october



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Historical Inaccuracy, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, POV Outsider, Post-Canon Fix-It, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, make the history you wish to see in the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:07:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24736651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soft_october/pseuds/soft_october
Summary: Abstract: Thanks to recent restoration work, answers to the mystery of the Lost Franklin Expedition may be found in the letters of one Josef Bisset, early Canadian fur trader, settler, and public servant.
Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier/Commander James Fitzjames
Comments: 22
Kudos: 62





	On New Revelations Concering the Lost Franklin Expedition

**Author's Note:**

> I got really depressed reading book after book about the Franklin Expedition after watching The Terror because it all ends in really sad questions. So I broke out my history degree, came up with some fake evidence, gave it some real-world flair, and here I offer you the historical article I dearly wish was real.

I have long asked myself why historical mysteries are so fascinating, not only to those of us in the field, but to amateur enthusiasts of all ages. There are tens of thousands of hours of podcasts devoted to some of the world’s most fascinating historical mysteries, enough books to choke a library, and every week or so I get sent an article claiming that the identity of Jack the Ripper has “finally” been solved. (Hint: It hasn’t.) But neither quantity nor fervor cannot answer the question of _why_ , why, when it is highly unlikely that these mysteries will ever be solved, do they still enthrall us? 

The Lost Franklin Expedition is famous among historians and amateur sleuths as being one of the most frustrating naval mysteries of all time. Two ships, each carrying over 60 men, several tons of food and not nearly enough lemons sailed away from Greenhithe, Kent, and never returned. While there have been theories regarding scurvy, lead poisoning, and good old fashioned bad luck, it is impossible to know the details of the crew’s experience, what the state of their minds were, and the ultimate fate of the majority of them. We have some records, found by those who went looking: bones, plates, a boat abandoned on a spit of limestone and shale called King William Island, and the oral history of the Netsilik people. These fragments, however, are like sections of a puzzle whose ultimate shape is unknown. Beyond the Victory Point note, we do not have any written record (the enigmatic Peglar Papers notwithstanding), and, like archeologists of ancient societies, we who are swept up by this mystery have had to content ourselves with fragments, pottery, and whichever new technological marvels time sees fit to grace us with. 

Until now. 

Why are we fascinated by historical mysteries? 

Because maybe, one day, we might have an _answer_. 

Josef Bisset was a fur trader, settler, militia officer and public servant. He was born in approximately 1808 in Quebec City to parents of some means, and after what was at least fifteen years of education befitting his station, abandoned whatever dreams his family might have had for him to spend his whole life moving further north and west to escape what he refers to in his letters as “ _le grande mal_ ” - the onward march of white settlers. 

Historians familiar with the story of westward Canadian expansion will undoubtedly be familiar with Bisset. His frequent letters to his sister Marìe (who, unlike her brother, never moved more than two kilometers from her birthplace), are among the finest primary sources about early Canadian settlement, relationships with indigenous populations, and the untamed beauty of the Candian wilderness. Bisset, whether he was an eccentric at heart or his way of life led him to disregard societal conventions over time, was refreshingly frank in his letters to his sister, which are well written and vacillate between almost poetical descriptions of the landscape and bawdy, colorful tales of the men and women with whom he interacted. Marìe was known to be in poor health much of her life, and it is perhaps his hope she might laugh that resulted in his lack of shame in relating to her the truths of life on the frontier, although his frequent misspellings and use of slang have sometimes made concrete conclusions difficult. 

It is in this collection of letters, first preserved by Marìe, then donated to the Musée national des beaux-arts du Québecin 1957 by her granddaughter, Adelaide, we find several clues and, perhaps, some conclusions as to the ultimate fate of the Franklin Expedition. This is not the first time Bisset’s letters have been analyzed for evidence of what befell the ill fated crew, but it is the first that has the benefit of utilizing a later set of letters which had been damaged by water and only recently restored. The translations used throughout the rest of this article were provided by Professor Bollard of Mcgill University, and have been slightly modernized for comprehension. 

The first letter Bisset wrote that may shed some light on the Franklin Expedition was written in the spring of 1854, and was probably received by Marie sometime in 1855. This letter has long been in the collection, but why the relevant text has never been connected to the Franklin Expedition is another mystery that more than likely finds its answer in the long standing racism within the historical community against indigenous peoples. From landmarks referenced in the letter, we can conclude that Bisset wrote this letter while he was travelling in or around the Baker Lake region of what is today Nunavut. The relevant passage occurs about halfway through the letter, among descriptions about the dress, sexual habits, food, and jokes told by the local Netsilik that Bisset regularly communed with. 

In the passage, which relates mostly to objects traded between Bisset and the Netsilik, Bisset states that he had been asked by the Netsilik for “any type of paper,” as “ _echiemoitana_ ” and “his _echiemoite_ ” have a particular need for it. These words have been disregarded by previous scholars as another of Bisset’s many misspellings, and some have asserted he merely ment “echeance,” a word which roughly means “the time at which a thing matures,” and that Bisset is commenting on a payment to the Netsilik in paper for a debt he owed to them. But this explanation is thin at best and borders on the racist at worst, for though looked for low and high, there could not be found a SINGLE attempt to roughly translate the phonetics of “echiemoite” to the Netsilik language. With consultation from appropriate resources and local linguists, a consensus has finally been reached. 

“Echiemoitana” may very well be a phonetic French translation of “esh-e-mu-ta-na” - an officer who is not as great as the ship’s captain. 

And “echiemoite?” His _captain_. 

These words were familiar to Crozier; on Parry’s expedition, as noted by his biographer, he was referred to as “esh-e-mu-ta-na” by the local indigenous people, and promised them he would return as “esh-e-mu-ta.” Yet to conclude that this is Crozier and one of his officers without any further evidence would be an unreasonable stretch: there were over a hundred men who set out from the ships in April of 1848, and it would be a safe bit of theorization that one or two of them had claimed the title of captain once Crozier, Fitzjames, or any number of their lieutenants had perished somewhere on King William's Island. An officer, steward, or, indeed, able seaman might have adopted the title of “Captain” for himself, if the opportunity should arise. The chaos evident in the archeological evidence would certainly imply a break between the camps, a separation of the men, and there is nothing yet in this letter to indicate exactly who these men might be, or even if they relate to the ships at all. 

We are fortunate then, that this is not the final reference to the mysterious “echiemoite” in the letters of Bisset, thanks to the recent restoration work conducted by the museum. 

In the summer of 1856, Bisset sent another letter to Marìe, this one consumed almost entirely by an interesting meeting he had out in the wilderness. This was not uncommon for Bisset, and letters of a similar type can be found throughout the collection. It is _who_ he met with, though, that provides an answer as to whom “echiemoitana” and his mysterious “echiemoite” might be. This letter also addresses the fate of a number of other persons who may also be survivors of the Franklin Expedition. Bisset makes reference to a group of men he found among a travelling band of Netsilik, who “while infants in the proper tongue,” (here Bisset is referencing his mother tongue, French), “made passable conversation in English.” Bisset, who had by this point spent more than ten years alone in the Canadian wilderness, was probably no prize of parlay himself. He notes that though dressed in the manner of “the natives,” they “were pale as you or I,” and told him they “had come from far to the north,” where “a great calamity occurred.” It seems that either the men were unwilling to discuss this “calamity” or Bisset did not ask them about it. Knowing what we know of Bisset, and his frequent encounters of hardships both first and secondhand, the latter is more likely. Bisset's kindness also shows through his actions, in his description of how he gave away some of his writing materials, in an apology to Marìe. 

“ _I am sorry that my letters may be more infrequent, but how could I resist, when the scholar [le savant] was grateful for the paper, as he has used up all of his in creation of a dictionary. The echiemoitana as well, claims to have missed sketching, and I passed along two of my charcoals to him. You will find enclosed in this letter a portrait of your brother created as a thank you, though its accuracy cannot be verified, as I have not seen a mirror these many months.”_

The portrait, which could be compared to others crafted by members of the expedition in earlier, happier days, has sadly been lost. But Bisset continues: 

_“I spent much time in discussion with a man the rest of them looked to as a leader, who called himself Crosseur. He seemed very interested in the shape of the land and the direction from which I had come, though he they called echiemoitana, Fitjemes, laughed and patted his hand and wondered if he were thinking about planning a trip.”_

These names, unlike the vague titles that came before, are unambiguous. Combined with the rest of Bisset’s letters, which have been verified as genuine, Crosseur can be mistaken for nothing but Crozier, and Fitjemes for naught but Fitzjames. Besides the man Bisset only refers to as “le savant,” it's clear that these three were not the only survivors, as Bisset continues: 

_“This Fitjemes was a friendly sort, but told me he was sad that some others, four or five, I can’t remember, were ‘more suited to the home than the hunt,’ and could not be here for our exchange. He asked if I would come further with them, but of course you know more than anyone how I hate a crowd, and I declined.”_

Bisset concludes the interaction with these men by reporting that he camped with them overnight, received from them some seal meat, and continued his journey westward towards the coast, while the party of hunters, “this strange mix of native and English,” continued north. 

“We are of one mind,” Bisset writes, in his last mention of them. “In that having known civilization and the wild, they wish never to return.” 

Not only are these documents invaluable to the study of the Franklin Expedition, they corroborate Netsilik testimony taken in 1865 by the American adventurer Charles Francis Hall, who was told that “four white men - among them Crozier - had survived for years and might still be alive.” Hall, who had been on two seperate expeditions to find either survivors of the expedition or a definite answer to their fate and was frustrated at finding only relics and bones, was heartened by these stories but ultimately dismissed them as lies, or attempts to curry favor with him. 

Perhaps they _weren’t_ just stories, after all. 

Of course, there are those who would claim Bisset’s whole story as a falsehood, made up by a man stuck in the wilderness for either entertainment or glory. Is it possible that Bisset invented the entire exchange for the benefit of his sister? But then why should this story be imagined, when all the rest of his letters have been proven time and time again to be true? There are slight embellishments, certainly, but never has their been any evidence to suggest Bisset made up any of his stories from whole cloth. Bisset is not questing for fame in this letter, indeed, it seems he did not know at all to whom he was speaking that afternoon in 1856. He does not tell his sister to call the papers or the authorities, there is no record of him claiming to have found the survivors of the Franklin Expedition. (In fact, Bisset famously shunned any sort of attention whatsoever.) Let us therefore, with lack of any evidence to the contrary, consider this letter for what it is: a colorful recollection of a notable interaction, sent by a lonely man travelling through the Canadian Wilderness to a sister he loved who could not travel far from her door.

Following this thread, Crozier and Fitzjames were alive as late as 1856. They lived with the Netsilik, in the region of Bakers lake, south of Great Fish River. They were not alone among the survivors, as “le savant” who was with them was also able to communicate clearly with Bisset, and was a man of some knowledge and little practicality, compiling a dictionary that no one else would ever read. What of the “four or five other crew” who had remained back at camp while this party was out hunting, those who were “more suited to the talents of the home than the hunt?” Unfortunately, there is no more to be said on the subject. Bisset moved out of the area in 1857, sending Marie the last letters she would ever receive from him by way of Fort Gary, present day Winnipeg, before he himself vanished somewhere in the Canadian wilderness. 

Whether they simply had no desire to return, or, like the John Adams of Pitcairn Island that Francis Crozier once met on a voyage when he was but a young midshipman, they had built lives among the native people is impossible to conclude. Bisset, however, in his long-standing desire to add color and even poetry in his letters to his sister, offers us one last glimpse into the lives of these men, before the window of history closes on them forever. 

_“Crosseur [sic] and Fitjemes [sic] are especially content in those bonds of brotherhood known to such men as they. Their smiles toward each other were not secretive, and sister, to see them look at each other with such open regard was enough to warm even a heart as old and tired as the one in the breast of your poor brother.”_

From this, I leave you to draw your own conclusions. 

**Author's Note:**

> And then those who were left lived happily ever after. 
> 
> I'm here at [@soft-october-night](https://soft-october-night.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
